Resonance
by EmbattledCurve
Summary: When Miroku is fatally injured after a vicious battle and he borders death, Sango gives in to her emotions and kisses him. But when he responds, the flames of passion are ignited and two get as close as any man and woman. one-shot


Well I'm not sure if I'm actually going to make an entire story out of this, I'm hanging on just making it a one-shot. Depends on the response I get actually.

Chapter 1

As she watched his immobile form she was aware of how insignificant one really was in this vast universe created by The Almighty. Birth and mortality were beyond the control of one such as her. However at this point she very much wished it was, for she could not bear the thought of being parted from him beyond the land of the living.

While Inuyasha, Kagome and Shippo were making do with some well deserved rest, she was at his side. Sleep was the most distant of all her worries. A soft breeze blew, shaking the still night. As her her mane lifted she could not but help feel that this was a sign that they were soon to be parted.

A solitary tear slid along her lashes, finally reaching it's destination on her cheek. She held his hand in her's, carressing it but she felt no warmth only coldness.

"Miroku" she sobbed softly. " It's not your time yet."

He did not stir, for he was not far from the threshold which seperated the living and the dead.

She held his palm against her cheek, the wetness soon moistening it too.

"Sango" he whispered, struggling to sit up.

"No, don't waste your energy" she said choking due to her emotions.

"But" he said painfully " I want too."

Feeling the wetness against his palm he said accusingly "You've been crying."

Gently he stroked her black hair, and ran his fingers down the side of her face.

Biting back a sob that threatened to rack her whole body, Sango buried her head in the warmth emating from his body through the white terrycot robes he wore. She wrapped her arms around his lean body.

He rested his chin over her head, and kissed her forehead gently.

"Why are you crying?" he questioned softly.

She hesitated and then confessed "For you."

Craning her neck she pressed her moist lips against his. She wanted his feel more than anything else, she needed to feel his rock solid body beneath her and more importantly the raessurance that he was there and had not been taken away. For that's what it amounted too, the cruel hand of fate.

Wrapping his arms around her and shielding her from the biting wind outside, Mirouko responded with all the ardour he possessed. He did not stop to question it, or it's timing. As far as he was concerned it was happening and he wanted no further halts.

Running a hand up and down her spine, he traced her jawbone and admired the delicately carved features. He wanted to etch them in his mind forever. As his gaze went upon her moist lips, he could not but help his next action.

He bit it, and as she gave a sharp gasp of pleasure and pain he thrust his tongue in, soaking in the wondrous exploration. Her eyes were closed and she ran her hand in his hair and arching her body she pressed it against him.

He lowered her against the mattress, and leaning over her licked the pulse throbbing against the side of her neck. Her response was immediate. She instantly bucked her hips, and her breasts thrust against the thin fabric of her kimono and pushed, straining within their confining cloth.

Lowering a hand he stroked her breast. She leaned into him and held him against her, cradling his head.

"Miroku" she whispered shakily, looking into his deep eyes, "make love to me."

With that she slipped his robe over his shoulder and proceeded to feel the length of his spine. It was slick and salty with sweat, and she drank in the essence of him which was entirely male. As she came across the many bruises damaging the perfectness of his taut body, more moisture droplets filled her eyes.

Closing her eyes and letting the rivulets run down her face she held him against her, being reminded of the critical state he was in.

Her tears served to haunt him, and the image of her pale face was more than he could bear. Wiping the mositure from the corner of his lids with a thumb, he commanded firmly, "You will not waste such a precious commodity upon a vagabond like me."

Energy surged through him, and a fierce will battled through him. The will to live. He had never before felt such strength.

Parting her kimono, he gazed at her naked beauty, and was wondrous in joy. Slipping a hand beneath her back he stroked it's creamy softness, drawing her more closer, so that his rough chest contacted her soft lushness. As the moonlight danced over them, he proceeded to do exactly as she bid.

I had always wondered if this would ever happen and was convinced that if it did, it would do so under such circumstances. Please review everyone and let me know what you think. If you leave behind your email id I will let you know if I decide to add more chapters. Since I did not intend to write a lemon, it had to stop here.


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